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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723318">RvB - BGC Crossover Never To Be Finished, Nor Really Properly Started</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yarol2075/pseuds/Yarol2075'>Yarol2075</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bubblegum Crisis, Red vs. Blue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, M/M, fic fragment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 16:08:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22723318</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yarol2075/pseuds/Yarol2075</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Locus finds himself first adopted by the Reds, and then on mission in an entirely wrong universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Implied Felix | Isaac Gates/Locus | Samuel Ortez</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>RvB - BGC Crossover Never To Be Finished, Nor Really Properly Started</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I honestly don't know where this fic fragment came from, only that I enjoyed writing it enough to post it.  I also have not had a chance watch seasons 16 &amp;17 of Red vs Blue yet, so definitely an AU.  <br/>Bubblegum Crisis is a fun, very very <i>Eighties</i> anime series.<br/>If this was to be continued (or even started properly) I suspect part of the end game would be Locus/Daley; possibly Sylia/Carolina.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>It could be Hell</em>, Locus sourly mused, waiting and watching for the scientist to make his move.  Ever since things went, well, sim-soldier-shaped after returning the healed Washington to his…whatever the former freelancer considered the Reds and the Blues, Locus had entertained that he very well might have died at some point and now he was, in fact, in Hell.  The only argument against it so far was that Felix was not here. (Or should that be proof of it?  Locus never dwelled on that very long.)  But he had returned Washington to the Reds and the Blues after their victory over the Blues and the Reds and had every intention of a quick retreat, politely yet firmly refusing their invitation to stay and celebrate, and then…</p>
<p>It was utterly unfair how quickly Grif had wormed his way into the Locus’ psyche under the file marked ‘Friend, or least someone you don’t want to shoot immediately.’  That big pair of mismatched puppy-eyes had gotten Locus to agree to stay for at least one round of drinks and barbeque.  Just don’t ask what Sarge was cooking, and you’ll enjoy it, Grif had assured him.</p>
<p>One round of drinks and barbeque turned into days, then weeks, and then Locus finally realized that he had been….</p>
<p>Had been <em>adopted</em> by the Reds.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that he hadn’t grown fond of them, he was surprisingly fond of them, even Donut’s little ‘oopsies’ had their charm.  It was that he <em>needed</em> to resume his own quest for <em>redemption</em>.  He couldn’t do that if he stayed.</p>
<p>He had to get away.</p>
<p>(Carolina and Washington had both just laughed when he mentioned it to them)</p>
<p>And he would have gotten away, except Loco hadn’t just given Caboose batteries for Freckles. He’d given him plans for the time machine part of the doomsday device.  Just in case.  And Caboose had “<em>improved”</em> on them.</p>
<p>So now, the Reds, the Blues, Washington, Carolina, and Locus were somewhere in time they very much shouldn’t be.</p>
<p>And if Simmons was to be believed (non-existent gods helps him, he <em>hoped </em>Simmons was right) they were not even in the right universe.</p>
<p>They were, if the information they had manage to gather was correct, in the year 2034 in the city of Mega-Tokyo.  To the more grounded members of the group’s amazement they’d even managed to avoid undue attention from the local authorities. </p>
<p>And now Locus was in an up-scale bar (he had to admit as far as bars went this was one of the better ones he’d been in) waiting for a chance to take an info-chip from a scientist that worked for a mega-company called GENOM.  The info-chip Simmons (another point in Hell’s favor was Simmons was the one who seemed to be best suited to coming up with plans to get them back to where they should be) said would have information that would allow them to take the first steps toward getting home.  Where and whenever home was.</p>
<p>He was there because the only other person Locus would have trusted with this mission was Carolina, and she was simply the wrong gender for this establishment’s usual patrons.  Locus had still thought long and hard about Tucker’s suggestion that they put a false mustache and beard on her and send her anyway, but decided he respected Carolina too much to do that – even if she had been all for it.  Locus had had to politely, but firmly, decline several offers of companionship.  He had claimed he was waiting for his partner, and they had all backed off respectfully.</p>
<p>Now.</p>
<p>The Genom scientist was finally getting up from the crowded corner he had placed himself in, and crossing the bar to greet a red-headed man with a great deal of faux-affection and air-kisses, and then making a genuinely regretful excuses that he had to take his leave.  Locus had to grin, someone else would have been distracted by the greeting and followed the scientist out of the bar.  But Locus had seen the needed info-chip being swapped and it being placed in the red-head’s pocket, and stayed put to watch what the red-head did next.</p>
<p>The man went up to the bar proper and ordered a drink.  A moment later Locus was beside him also ordering a new drink, and picking his pocket.  Even Felix had had to admit, with some envy, that Locus was the better of the two them when it came to picking pockets.</p>
<p>A surprisingly strong hand grabbed his wrist.</p>
<p>“Tch, now one of two things is happening here,” an amused voice drolled in his ear as the red-head leaned, snuggled really, into his side, doing nothing to make the surrounding customers wary of what was going on, “Either you are being way too forward, Gorgeous, in which case by all means proceed and maybe we can take it back to my place after we finish our drinks, or,” the amusement in the voice sharpened into something that unexpectantly made Locus’ stomach fill with butterflies, “ and tragically I think it more likely, you’re trying to lift the info-chip my informant just gave me, hmm?”</p>
<p>Locus turned his head slightly to glare at the other man, and suddenly had to work hard to keep his face impassive.  He knew that look.  Oh how he knew that look.  Flirtatious.  Wry.  Self-assured.  Did-you-really-think-you-were-going-to-get-away-with-it?  There were two key differences.  The eyes were green instead of brown, and instead of cocky arrogance there was…sweetness?   Perhaps sweetness was not correct, but it was all Locus could think of at the moment.</p>
<p>“Well?” a ginger eyebrow was raised, and a police badge was discreetly flashed.</p>
<p>“We need that chip to get back to our own time and universe,” Locus blurted out to his own horror.</p>
<p>Damn.</p>
<p>Locus sadly recognized that look too.</p>
<p>
  <em>‘Why are all the hot ones crazy?’</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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